Page 110 of Single Mom's Guide to Love
My heart grows three sizes with her words as I bring her in for one more kiss. I probably let it deepen a little too much when we’re interrupted by a pounding on the door.
And window.
And the windshield.
“Come on lovebirds!” a sister, who I’m going to guess is Quinn, yells. “Quit making out in the driveway.”
Maeve and I laugh as the harassment subsides and we get out of the car.
“You know, one of you could have come and got us,” Maeve says as we unload the presents. “Did we really need the cavalry?”
“They made me do it,” another sister says. That must be Ainsley.
“Like she didn’t know that.” Quinn makes her way over to me, hand extended.
“I take it you’re Logan.”
I switch the present in my hand to shake hers. “And you must be Quinn.”
“You’re the sudden husband who was her slump buster?”
Oh, I like her. “And you’re the sister I call when she’s being stubborn.”
The two of us give each other one knowing look before shaking hands.
“He passes! Now let’s open some presents!”
The three sisters talk and giggle as they head back into the house. When I turn to Maeve, her face is completely red, and I don’t think it’s from the bite in the cold air.
“I’m going to kill her,” Maeve groans.
“She wasn’t so bad.”
Maeve shakes her head. “That was her warm-up. You’ve been warned.”
“Is it true you’re worth six billion? Or is it eight? I’ve seen both.” Quinn asks before Stella chimes in.
“Were any of the relationships real?”
“Oh! Yes!” Ainsley chimes in. “Didn’t you date Sabrina Rome? Because she’s my favorite singer of all time, and I need to know everything about her.”
“Can you all stop,” Maeve says. “It’s Christmas. Not an interrogation.”
“I’m sorry, we can’t help it,” Stella says. “And actually, this is your fault for keeping him hidden for so long. If we would’ve met sooner, all of these questions would have been out of the way.”
“She’s right,” I say, giving her a quick kiss on her temple.
“I know you’re trying to score brownie points with them, but remember who you have to go home with.”
I know she’s trying to act tough. But I also know exactly what I could do to her in five seconds that would make her forget that at any point today she was annoyed by me. “Whatever you say, wife.”
“Did he just call you wife?” Ainsley asks. “Oh my God, Maeve. You have a real-life book boyfriend.”
“Bookhusband,” I say confidently. “And thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Whoa!” Simon shouts. “He’s a book boyfriend? I’m one! Aren’t I?”
He looks over to his wife, Charlie, who’s holding their daughter while she waves around a piece of wrapping paper. “Of course you are, dear. Just the best.”
